


Absence

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Series: You'll have abs in no time. [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Gen, Not Squipemy so do not click on this story looking for that, PTSD, Sickfic, Stomach bug but deliberately vague on the icky parts, Thesis statement: the times when the Squip was kind of nice to Jeremy, make him super uncomfortable after the fact, subtly abusive Squip, thesis statement: the Squip is scary and manipulative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 08:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18178004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Jeremy is sick.  The Squip handles the situation.





	Absence

Towards the end of his adventures with the Squip, Jeremy reaches the point where he can kind of predict what it’ll say and do. He knows how to sit to avoid shocks, and he knows where to put his hands. He answers the right questions in class. He makes out with Brooke, or Chloe, or whoever. He eats junk food when he's out with his fellow cool kids, ‘cause that's part of being a guy. He eats salads and gross protein powder concoctions at home, ‘cause his body is disgusting. 

A salad is Jeremy’s downfall. It's small, unsatisfying, and totally not worth getting food poisoning over. 

Jeremy wakes up that morning with a dull ache in his stomach, which he assumes is anxiety, until the Squip informs him he is sick from eating contaminated lettuce and will be skipping school that day. 

“Couldn't you have told me the lettuce was contaminated before you made me eat it?” Jeremy complains. 

**The lettuce had a 99.4 percent probability of not being contaminated.**

“So you’re saying you have no ability to sense that kind of thing?” 

**I am capable of envisioning every possible future, including one in which you became ill from eating contaminated lettuce. Every time you consume food there is a minute chance that you will choke or contract a disease. Every time you walk down the street there is a minute chance that you will be struck by lightning. I do not require you to wear lightning proof clothing. That would have a negative impact on your social status, while offering very little in the way of concrete benefits.**

“So you’re saying I've been struck by lightning in vegetable form?” 

**Correct. You and 28 other people across the Mid Atlantic states.**

With a groan, Jeremy buries his face in his pillow. He's not that sick yet. He's at the stage where there's some churning, and his burps smell weird. 

**Don't blame me for your current predicament, Jeremy. Blame the US government.**

Jeremy scrunches up his face, then forces it to smooth out. It's weird that the Squip would say something like that unprompted, but Jeremy isn't allowed to think about that kind of stuff. He's been trained not to doubt. It's just like, god, is _somebody_ on the defensive or what?

A shock travels up Jeremy’s spine. 

It’s the only shock he receives that day. 

As Jeremy’s sickness progresses to include every gross and embarrassing thing associated with a stomach bug, he fully expects the Squip to mock him and remind him of how disgusting he is. 

The Squip does not. It is steady and helpful, pulling Jeremy’s metaphorical puppet strings in a way that's almost reassuring. 

**I'm not a villain, Jeremy,** the Squip chides, or maybe just reminds. **My only purpose is to make your life better.**

Jeremy rolls his head up to look at the Squip, from his place crouched by the toilet. The Squip has switched out his white track suit for a swooshy black cloak and spiky hair that screams evil anime character, but yeah, he's _totally_ not a villain. 

**Do you want me to change my hair?**

“Uh… aren't you the one supposed to be telling me to change my hair, and my… everything else?” 

**Affirmative.**

Later that night, when Jeremy’s body has stopped betraying him, the Squip turns off his pain receptors, so he can rest. He explains that he couldn't do so early, because it was important that Jeremy be aware of his physical needs in order to avoid unwanted consequences. As with most things, the Squip is right. 

Months after the Squip Incident has passed, that one time Jeremy got sick and the Squip took care of him is among the things he recounts to Michael when his doubts are at their worst. What, he asks, if the Squip was good, and his brain was just too faulty and mis-wired to take the necessary punishment? What, he wants to know, if the Squip (while technically evil, by virtue of blocking Michael and also attempting world domination) was still not something worth going into PTSD mode over? What if... ? 

“Dude, if allowing you to eat poison then not shocking you as punishment for puking it back up is on your list of reasons to defend that that thing, I'd say it's pretty indefensible.” 

“Okay, but…” Jeremy begins, and Michael settles back against the couch where they’re huddled together, ready to go back over the same story that he and Jeremy have been over dozens of times already.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been prompted to write sick fic involving the Squip and Jeremy twice now, and I'm certain this is not what the prompter(s?) wanted, hence not posting it as a direct response to those prompts, but its own thing.


End file.
